#anyway. i hate winter and january

[theflyingfeeling]

wow it's gonna be -32 in Oulu tomorrow, I hope Olli is happy

[sumsumstrashbin]

okay so, I've been thinking about this for a while - what about young!sev's birthday? like, some weeks later, James sadly "destroyed" his well noted Advanced Potions Making book, and he was very attached to it 🥹

so Reader, as a birthday gift, brings him back the repaired book, apologizing a little because maybe some pages aren't perfect etc., but she tried to repair it anyway 🥹🥹 and idk he's just moved because he didn't think that anyone would actually remember his birthday or do something for him?😭❤️‍🩹

feel free to ignore this or change anything if you want to!!<33

𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 ~ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭! 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬!

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟏.𝟒𝐤

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬' 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧-𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤, 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚��

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

It was a cold January morning: the first of the month, to be exact. Most students were still enjoying their holiday break, whether that be back at home with their families or still at Hogwarts. The students that spent their holiday break at the school were either sleeping in after a long New Year’s night celebration, or down in the great hall getting breakfast to start their day.

The Marauder’s had all decided to stay at the school for their break this year, as it was their last year at Hogwarts, and they wanted to make the best of it. 

Severus, known as the quiet loner of the school, decided to spend his morning outside in the frigid winter air, scribbling down annotated notes in his Advanced Potions-Making book.

You made your way outside as well, hoping that the morning air would wake you up after the long night of partying. You spotted Severus on a nearby bench, making your way over, your boots crunching in the fresh snow.

“Good morning, Severus. It’s quite cold to be sitting out here, is it not?” You spoke, shoving your hands in your pockets to keep them warm.

Severus looked up at you, shutting his book. You were the only person that didn’t surprise him when you spoke to him, as he knew you to be the only friendly face in his life. The one person that would willingly sit next to him in class, the one person that wouldn’t make comments about his appearance or his unapproachable demeanor. 

He placed the book down next to him, crossing his arms.

“It isn’t too bad. I prefer the cold over having to be in the great hall by the time James and his irritating friends make their way down for breakfast.”

“Ah, I see.” You replied, pursing your lips. You knew of their never-ending pranks and beratement towards him, and it was beginning to make you resent them.

Just then, the Marauders made their way outside, laughing amongst themselves at one of their many inside jokes. They immediately spotted their most hated person, sitting next to who they thought to be “little miss sunshine”.

James made the first move, approaching the bench that the two of you were at. “L/n, it seems like you need rescuing. Never fear, James is here.  Is Snivellus here bothering you?”

The rest of the group snickered behind him, though your expression quickly went sour.

“Believe it or not, Potter, I’m here out of my own free will. Was there something you needed, or will you leave us alone?”

“Oh, don’t tell me Snivellus has a girlfriend.” James joked, looking between the two of you. Severus remained silent, grabbing his book to place it in his jacket pocket.

“What’s that, hm? Give it here.” He continued, grabbing the book out of Severus’ hand.

“It’s nothing. Give it back.” Severus stated, his voice clear and calm, though his hands were shaking.

James opened the book, flipping through the pages. “I can’t say I’m surprised that a loserr such as yourself is studying during the holidays.”

“Give it back, Potter. You aren’t funny.” You reached for the book, trying to grab it out of his hands, but James raised it into the air, making you unable to reach it.

“I think Snivellus deserves some kind of punishment for corrupting your mind enough to actually want to be around him.”

Before you could respond, James began ripping pages out, before tossing it to the ground. Sirius took this as an opportunity to whip out his wand and cast Incendio on the book, lighting it ablaze. You and Severus watched in horror, and the group high-fived each other before laughing their way back inside. 

“Severus, I’m so sorry–” You began, but he simply fled the scene before you could finish.

You shovelled snow onto the book with your hands to stop the fire, brushing it off and pocketing the book afterwards. You were going to make this right, even if it wasn’t your fault.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

January 9th came quickly, and you hadn’t seen Severus much since the incident. To be fair, you had spent most days locked away in your dorm, trying to salvage the Advanced Potion-making book as best as you could, rewriting any annotations that were damaged and replacing the missing pages with ones from your undamaged copy. 

Today was Severus’ birthday, and you had asked him to meet you in the Slytherin common room when passing him in the hall the previous day. You made your way to the common room, the book wrapped in festive paper with a big red bow tucked under your arm.

Severus waited on the couch, looking as miserable as always. You approached him, sitting next to him and placing the book in his lap.

“Happy Birthday, Severus.” You offered him a warm smile, your heart practically bursting with excitement for him to open his gift.

Severus stared at you, pure shock plastered across his face. “You…I…” 

“Well, go on and open it! I can’t wait any longer.” You exclaimed, clasping your hands in your lap.

He returned his gaze to the gift in his lap, his slender fingers carefully removing the ribbon and opening the wrapping paper from each taped section.

“You can rip it open, you know.”

“I’d feel terrible if I ruined all this effort.” He finishes his tedious unwrapping job, taking the book out.

“I tried my best to redo all the annotations that I could, I’m sorry if I missed any, but it was pretty ruined–”

“Y/n, it’s..it’s perfect. Thank you.” He flips through the pages, gently running his fingers over the notes that you rewrote in your handwriting. “I don’t even know how to–how to thank you enough. Nobody has ever done something like this for me before.” He speaks softly, shifting his gaze from the book over to you.

“It’s terrible, what they did. And it’s your birthday, of course I had to do something for you.”

Severus’ heart swelled at your words. He couldn’t express his gratitude with words, how much this meant to him. “I…thank you, again, Y/n. I’m surprised you even remembered my birthday.”

“I have all my friends’ birthdays in my calendar, Sev. You included. How could I forget?”

A smile crept onto his face at the thought of his birthday, his name, being important enough to be scribbled into your calendar.

“Oh, and I almost forgot. I’ll be right back.” You skittered off to your dorm before he could respond, leaving him to flip through the pages of his restored book. 

You returned a few minutes later, holding a small cupcake with a lit candle on it. You brought it over to the couch, sitting next to him once again. 

After singing him the birthday song in a playful manner, you handed the cupcake to him. “Blow out the candle, make a wish.”

He looked at you with a warm smile, before closing his eyes, swallowing his emotions as he blew out the flame.

“I hope you wished for James and his friends to get what they deserve, because they will. I may have tipped someone to toss a dungbomb into James’ dorm.”

Severus let out a laugh, slapping a hand over his mouth. He composed himself after a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “This is the greatest birthday ever. Possibly the greatest day in general. Thank you, Y/n, for making this so special.”

“I’m glad I could make it special for you.” You took his hands in yours, beaming at him. 

Overcome with many emotions, Severus leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Your face immediately flushed, and so did his. After a moment, he let go of your hands. “I’m sorry, Y/n, I–”

You cut him off swiftly by leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips. You pulled away a few moments later, staring into his eyes to gauge his reaction.

Severus, a man of very few emotions, sat there with his face as red as Arthur Weasley’s hair, a dorky smile plastered across his face. You pulled him into an embrace, his cold hands finding their place on your back.

A loud voice broke the two of you from the intimate moment, a young Slytherin rushing into the common room. “Someone threw a Dungbomb in James Potter’s dorm! Someone finally pranked those tosser’s back!”

Severus and you exchanged knowing looks, laughter bubbling in your chests.

[theoldsports]

Moody.

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 3.3k words

depression, arguing, manipulation/toxic marriage, fucking each other over, possessiveness. it’s tamer than some of my others in an objective sense, but emphasizes dark thoughts and internal monologue.

requests always open! thanks for your kindnesses. i think this one is more experimental than the others. the objective here was to show how both of them mimic regular human feelings because they know they should, but it’s a poor pantomime. two sickos with nothing else but each other <3 i think i am going to call these works the Truculent series.

Coriolanus grew cold fast and did not tolerate heat well. He only slept only in his underclothes and wore heavy layers at the first sight of winter. His alarmingly fair complexion meant excessive sun wasn’t in the cards. In spite of his name, his scrappy build wasn’t meant to cut through harsh January terrain either. His nails chipped at labor, and his mind grew uneasy at laziness.

The world was tough on Coriolanus and he was tough right back on the word.

There was little Coriolanus was designed to do. Many people were strong, or smart, or wealthy, or drop-dead-gorgeous, or violent, or talented. There was something about every person Coriolanus could think of that made them stand out. He could easily categorized people by them. Here was the group of people known for their beautiful voices; here, those who could benchpress four-hundred pounds… Coriolanus could not be quantified like that.

Coriolanus Snow had to take what was left, like a runt. He was only good at two things: enduring and controlling. Since those were the only options leftover for him, Coriolanus became the best at them both. When, like Coriolanus, one has been gifted such shitty talents and nothing else, they have to figure out how to use them well enough to win against everyone with a better gift. Eventually, he realized his talents were not the ability to endure and the ability to control, but actually the ability to win. Eventually, he won so much, Coriolanus forgot there was ever a time when he lost (most days).

(The days he didn’t forget were the Bad Days).

Coriolanus felt like he couldn’t get out of bed on the Bad Days when the crushing weight of his failures and his ego landed across his chest. He told himself he was done with love after Lucy Gray. Disgusting Lucy Gray, a name he never wanted to even think again. He thought he would marry someone he hated and be done with love.

But junkies and addicts quit every Monday anyway.

Once he found [Y/N] again after their childhood together, there was no quitting. He knew it was bad for him, so he married what was bad for him to make sure he had an endless supply. How he hated that familiar feeling of obsession, the feeling of being so desperate that he had to rely on something other than himself. Somehow, he would have to sustain the feeling without losing his girl like an idiot. Marriage was likely the thing to steel their attempt at a bond.

Upon waking up to the alarm that morning, Coriolanus knew this was one of those Bad Days. Maybe it was the weather, the stress of Games. First year as head Gamemaker had almost driven Coriolanus mad under the pressure to succeed. He reached over to turn off the clock that buzzed painfully at six in the morning every day ending with a Y.

“Coryo…” [Y/N] mumbled, hearing him stir beside her. The sound must have woken her. She tossed an arm over his chest.

“‘Mornin’, Darling,” Coriolanus replied, wishing he were dead.

[Y/N] immediately picked up on the flatness of his tone, but she knew better than to push him too far. “All good?” She asked.

Coriolanus grumbled passively. He rarely did anything passively. Coriolanus grabbed the hand over his chest and dragged it up to the side of his face to rest it there, but only after he had kissed [Y/N] palm.

“You’re affectionate this morning.”

“I just missed you. I’ve been busy.” He said dismissively, pressing his face further into her hand.

“Well, thanks, dear, but don’t you have work?” [Y/N] asked. She propped her chin up on his shoulder to stare at him inquisitively. This attitude was odd. First thing in the morning during Games seasons, she got a kiss on the forehead and then Coriolanus was gone for a run and a shower and out til nightfall, barring special occasions.

“Don’t you?”

“Not til early evening today. Normally, you’re up and out of here first thing on a Tuesday morning,” [Y/N] told him, as she rubbed from his cheek to the side of his throat gently. She dragged her hand up his face to rest on his worried forehead. “You sick, or something?”

“No.” Coriolanus replied weakly. He closed his eyes again. He couldn’t face the legendary blunder he had made at work. Coriolanus had allowed his aides to code the program for the arena wrong. The open water was nowhere near as deep as was needed for the aquatic muttations. It was causing all sorts of trouble. The Games would end too fast if he didn’t do something, yet the stress of thinking of reaching across the nightstand for his Communicuff was paralyzing.

“You sure? You don’t feel feverish,” She confirmed. [Y/N] sat up to press her lips to his forehead just in case her cold hands had misread his temperature. “I can call the doctor, though.”

“[Y/N], stop. I’m fine.” Coriolanus lied harshly. He tried to sit up, but his psychological anguish made him feel like vomiting.

“Call in. Stay here.” She suggested, watching his weak movement to sit up.

“I’m head Gamemaker, I don’t get to call in. I need to go for a run’n I’ll be fine.”

[Y/N] raised an eyebrow. “So you aren’t currently fine? Because you said—“

“I know what the fuck I said, okay?” Coriolanus barked. “Wanna recap anything else, or can I go?”

Sharply, [Y/N] scooted away from him to the other side of the bed. His moods were hardly predictable. She sighed. “Fine,” She said, averting her eyes to her hands like a scolded girl. “I was merely concerned that you—“

Coriolanus scoffed at her and shakily stood up from the bed. He quickly stepped into the closet and stepped joggers and a wifebeater. [Y/N] hoped he would grab a jacket as well; the weather was much too cold for mid summer. The Capitol itself got disproportionately cold often. She didn’t say anything out loud, though. “Get off my ass. Can’t you sit there and be grateful for once? With all that I do for you?Fucking hell.” Coriolanus said. He did not so much as look back at her as he stormed out of the bedroom.

[Y/N] could not understand what she had done wrong. The only things she had were provided through Coriolanus or simply the man himself. Once Coriolanus was presumed out of earshot, [Y/N] dropped her head into her hands and cried. Not tears of frustration or anger, but tears of self-pity that her one lifeline had yelled at her like that.

—

By the time Coriolanus returned from his run, it appeared his wife had gone out for the day. Strange since she usually capitalized on the extra sleep if she was not working downtown with Capitol News until evening shift. Since their reckless young adulthood of media stunts, Coriolanus had watched [Y/N] grow a stifling love for spectacle. With his support and their shared deranged name recognition, she had quickly risen from an editor, to a correspondent (brief. He had helped her but her way up and out of that position) to Associate Head of Programming for Capitol News. It helped to have his wife steer both their media narratives from the inside.

Except for when she was mad at him.

Coriolanus wiped the sweat off his brow in the shower as he thought. There was no doubt in his mind that [Y/N] was going to run some sort of primetime bulletin that made him look a fool during his Games coverage that night. It was bad enough that Lucky Flickerman was beginning to look like botox had gotten better of him, in addition to Coriolanus’ own fuck up with the muttations. Fact of the matter was that viewership was down and [Y/N] was going to make it worse. She was going to make his Bad Day worse and he knew it.

He could feel his heart rate racing as he stood under the shower’s cold stream. His equally cold blue eyes glanced across the bathroom at the clock. Six-fifty AM. Realistically, he need to be into the Gameroom by no later than eight-thirty, but it frustrated him to be in later than eight. In roughly an hour, how could he perform the maximum amount of damage control? Coriolanus’ head began to ache at the thought.

She had never run that harsh of a piece on him before, but it was a Bad Day, and no doubt she was angry with him for his attitude. [Y/N] was capable of a great many horrible things. Wouldn’t Coriolanus himself want to sting somebody back who he had known was pissy with him?

When he exited the shower, Coriolanus rushed to dress himself. [Y/N] said she wasn’t working until late. But where, then, had she gone? With all the thinking about his own feelings, he hadn’t considered that conundrum.

—

Coriolanus called her secretary, a boring woman with a name neither man nor wife could recall. According to that woman, [Y/N] had not gone early to work. He rang Tigris. Tigris said [Y/N] had not been over unless she was lying which Coriolanus wouldn’t put past her. The Plinths swear they had not encountered her.

Coriolanus stared down at his datapad of phone numbers. He refrained from calling all of their friends because he didn’t want to to exude the panic he was starting to feel for letting his wife run away. None of her belongings seemed out of place. Her suitcase was present in the back of their closet. Still, Coriolanus was terrified in the back of his mind that his wife had finally left him. A year and half was a dreadful lifespan for a marriage in his opinion. [Y/N] was not getting away that easily.

However, his watch told him it was eight and the Games weren’t going to run themselves.

Throughout the day, Coriolanus could not get his heart rate to settle. It made him feel ill. So ill, in fact, that he couldn’t keep down most of breakfast, or all of lunch. He skipped dinner all together. Who was [Y/N] to up and leave him like that?

The slight rational segment of his brain told him to walk it back, but the rest of his brain paid no mind. Coriolanus had nothing going for him other than gut instincts and his gut instincts now were implying something was fundamentally wrong.

Coriolanus’ decision-making was way off of its game at work. Coriolanus, for ratings, could not allow the Hunger Games to end on a Tuesday night. Somehow, he would have to create obstacles to last the four remaining tributes til Friday. He didn’t much like those odds. He was going to cave and hand in his resignation before the end of the day, he was certain.

Though, at eight in the evening, the primetime announcement or chiron that Coriolanus was a shitty husband or a murderer never cut through his broadcast to make his Day irreparably Bad. Nor did it at eight-thirty, or even nine. Coriolanus felt shaky. Maybe with relief for his reputation, maybe because he had nothing in his system.

If nothing had aired at Coriolanus’ expense on TV, had something happened to [Y/N] while he was on his run, or later? Was this some rebel attempt to bring the head Gamemaker to his knees? An attempt from a bitter rival to play games with him? Coriolanus frowned. Many things could have happened to his wife between six in the morning and nine at night. Coriolanus could barely stand up as it was. He clocked out and summoned his driver as quick as he could.

The second Coriolanus’ key entered the lock, he started shouting with the energy he had left. The door had yet to even close behind him. “[Y/N]! [Y/N], my love! Are you here?” Coriolanus pushed open every cabinet and closet on his way to the bedroom. Empty. He checked the closet - her suitcase remained. Coriolanus had called her office on his way home. She had not shown up for work. Unheard of.

Coriolanus ran through every room of the townhouse shouting [Y/N]’s name over and over until he felt hoarse. He could only imagine what the neighbors thought. Then he saw the attic door open.

The door remained open, but the stairs to the attic had snapped back up halfway and gotten jammed. “Coryo!” He heard [Y/N] yell faintly from upstairs.

“Darling, are you… in the attic?” Coriolanus shouted back cautiously under the open door. He watched as [Y/N]’s tearstained face peered around the edges of the attic door. It was really her. Not a Jabberjay, not a setup. Coriolanus exhaled for what felt like the first time all day. “Let me come up. I’ll come to you. Hold on!” Coriolanus’ finally left behind the Bad Day as he leapt into action. Protecting his wife was his job before Gamemaker, or any other obligation. Anyone in the Capitol would remember their vows, or her smashing cake into his face much to his dismay. Marriage was socially his most binding contract of all. Coriolanus did not take contractional obligations lightly.

Coriolanus had not realized that his wife was so delicate and helpless as to get stuck in the attic. She needed him more than he thought. His heart swelled with pride. Coriolanus grabbed a broomstick and hooked the hinge in the stairs. He yanked with all his strength until the ladder descended. Quickly, he dropped a large sack of rice from the kitchen counter over the bottom step in hopes it would weight the stairs down and he took off up them.

“[Y/N], are you alright?” Coriolanus asked, popping his head through the attic door

There on the unfinished attic floor sat [Y/N], bundled up in her thin teddy she had been wearing when Coriolanus left. She had only that and a too-short blanket Tigris had crocheted as a child. There was very little in the attic at all. Some of the Grandma’am’s belongings in clear glass bins and whatever surviving relics had carried on from their post-war childhoods.

It was clear [Y/N] had been crying. “I thought you would come back.” She sniffled.

Coriolanus urgently climbed the rest of the way up the ladder and sat carefully down beside [Y/N], wrapping her in his long arms possessively. “I thought something happened to you,” Also, that you tried to leave me. “You’re freezing… How long have you been up here?”

“Since you went on your run.”

“Shit… All that time?”

[Y/N] thought her tears had long since stopped, but seeing Coriolanus appear upset about ignoring her all day made her want his attention more. She wanted him to feel bad.

The tears started flowing the second his arms were looped around her waist. [Y/N] rested her head on Coriolanus’s shoulder heavily. “Coryo, you just left. I come up here all the time to think and I didn’t think it would—“

The blonde man’s heart softened at the sight of her. “Darling, Darling, shh, don’t cry,” Coriolanus combed his hand through sobbing [Y/N]’s hair. “You’re okay. I’m here now.”

Coriolanus felt like he was able to play the role of comforter and protector nobly tonight in a way he had recently felt inadequate at. With ease, he draped her legs across his lap and adjusted her arms around his neck so that her body was completely supported by his. She clung to him like a desperate child. The skin-to-skin contact was most appreciated by Coriolanus after the Day he’d had. Coriolanus excitedly drew a breathe from her neck, taking in her scent.

[Y/N] sobbed dramatically into Coriolanus’ dress shirt, but he pretended not to care like a good husband. “I’m sorry. I c-couldn’t—couldn’t get down. I th-thought you would come get me. I shout-ted for you,” she played up her tears. [Y/N] played up everything for attention; they both knew that. But the situation was mutually beneficial for people that liked attention so damn much. “You didn’t hear me.” You never hear me.

“Oh, Princess…” Coriolanus rubbed his hands up and down her arms, hoping it would warm her up. He pulled away from her regrettably and stripped off his blazer. He wrapped it around her shoulders and pulled it carefully in front of her. He knew [Y/N] would like the gesture. Now, Coriolanus did not say I’m sorry. It was not his fault that [Y/N] had fled to the attic. He did instead try to make good from now forward. “I was so worried, I started to think something happened to you. I wanted to give you space, but then I didn’t hear from you all day. I’m relieved to know the only monster that got you was the attic,” Coriolanus leaned into her neck to kiss her in his favorite place. “You sat up here in all this junk and dust today; how are you still so stunning?”

[Y/N] laughed through a wet sniffle as Coriolanus searingly kissed her neck. “I didn’t know I’d worried you this much.” She muttered.

“I didn’t know I’d upset you this much,” Coriolanus agreed. That was as close to I’m sorry as she was going to get. “What did you do up here all day?”

“W-Went through some boxes. Found your old uniform.” [Y/N] smiled back.

“My Peacekeeper uniform?” Coriolanus asked in surprise. He hoped that she had not found anything else, if there was anything more scathing up in the attic.

“Mhm,” she affirmed. [Y/N] stood shakily from the floor, snot dripping from her nose. Snot, which she knew better than to wipe on the sleeve of his blazer. She followed where the beams were in the floor nimbly so she didn’t put her foot through the ceiling below her. [Y/N] collected a decently sized metal crate with a handle on it. PRIVATE SNOW, CORIOLANUS B. was stamped on top of the dusty, dented metal. She carried it back to Coriolanus and sat down with it in front of him.

“I didn’t go through everything in here, that felt intrusive, but I did pull this out,” they both knew that was a lie and that she had absolutely gone through every item, but Coriolanus let her keep going without cutting in. [Y/N] decided she would still let him explain the history behind every item he wanted to share anyway.

When she shook the long gray-blue jacket out of the box, something happened that hadn’t happened last time she took the jacket out. “Coriolanus, what’s this?” [Y/N] asked, plucking a bulky chain off the floor that had tumbled from the coat’s breast pocket.

“Ah, I’d forgotten where those went. Dog tags from my time in Twelve.” Coriolanus said.

“I still have my father’s. You were like a real soldier then, huh?”

“Peacekeeper.” Coriolanus corrected.

“Yes, Peacekeeper.” [Y/N] agreed quietly.

[Y/N] held the two identical pendants in her hands.

SNOW, CORIOLANUS

CITADEL, CAPITOL

4147769218S 12

O NEG

CREMATE

His entire identity all on two pieces of nickel. While she squinted at the embossed metal, Coriolanus leaned forward across the box that had once held his entire world and grabbed the chain she was holding as well as her hands. [Y/N]’s red weepy eyes met his crystal clear blue ones. “Would you like them?”

“You don’t want to keep them?”

“Certainly not. My name right there on your chest? That’s preferable to them sitting in a dusty box forever. People will know who you belong to if you wander off like this again. ‘Know you’re not, hm, like… up for finders-keepers.” Coriolanus shifted them out of [Y/N]’s hands and dropped the chain around her neck as if it were the finest gold necklace he had ever purchased her.

Coriolanus put that box up in the attic because he had not wanted to think about it ever again. Above all, though, Coriolanus Snow was an opportunistic man and he put those dog tags on [Y/N] just like he had Lucy Gray because he knew this move was flattering. If it worked once, it would work again. Sickeningly, he pulled out the same words he had used before too: “There. All mine.”

“All yours.” [Y/N] replied.

TAGLIST:

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as usual, apologies if your tag didn’t work. tumblr’s tough like that. also so sorry if i forgot anyone! remind me if i did!

[interstellarlyinlove]

First time meeting the parents (January 3rd)

word count: 600

@wolfstarmicrofic

Sirius isn’t sure how to feel. 

He should probably feel happy to see Remus after not seeing him since the start of winter break, but he really doesn’t want to see Remus here of all places.

Sirius hates the house he grew up in and he hates thinking that Remus might hate it even more. Speaking of which, where is Remus, anyway? Surely he should have arrived by now–

“Will you stop fidgeting, brother?” Regulus says softly. Both brothers are standing in the corner of the crowded Grimmauld Place parlour room. Their father is entertaining some of his colleagues in the Ministry and Remus’ father was invited. Remus told Sirius in his last letter that he might accompany his father. On an unrelated note, Sirius might puke. “I’m sure your boyfriend will be here shortly.”

“Remus isn’t my boyfriend,” Sirius says automatically. Then he realizes that Regulus didn’t even say Remus’ name and tries not to flush. Sirius changes the subject. “Say, you didn’t grow up here.”

Regulus blinks. “What?”

“Say, this is the first time you enter this house. What would you think about it?”

Regulus blinks again. “You want me to– Well, it is very gothic-esque, if I say so. Very dark. The Tell-Tale Heart could be set in this very parlour room. Some of the wall art is questionable, to say the least. Horrifying, even. But I do rather like that aesthetic. Some say it suits me, so I don’t mind it all that much–”

SIrius’ heart sinks. He catches Remus’ pretty curly hair in the dimly-lit room and he’s standing next to Sirius’ mother.

This is the worst night of Sirius’ life. 

Sirius hands Regulus his drink and clears his throat. “Sure, sure. Dark, dismal, dreary, and cold. I think so too, it’s all rather cliche – see you later, Reg.”

Sirius reaches both Remus and his mother in record speed. Sirius doesn’t think he’s ever considered Remus and Walburga existing in the same universe before, so this is peculiar to say the least. 

“Remus!” He greets, then he cringes because his voice is rather loud. “Mother.”

Walburga acknowledges him. “It is terribly rude to interrupt a conversation in this manner, Sirius.”

“Happy new year, Sirius,” Remus says, smiling, and Walburga might as well have disappeared from the face of the earth. She doesn't matter, nothing else really matters, not the stupid uninviting house or the horrendous paintings on the wall or–

“Have you hit your head somewhere, Sirius?” Walburga asks, bewildered. “What are you staring at?”

Sirius blinks. His mother is looking at him inquisitively. Sirius snaps out of it. “I’m sorry, mother.”

Walburga shakes her head then turns to look at Remus. “It was nice meeting you, Mr Lupin. I apologize for my son’s rather odd behavior.  Please enjoy your night.” She then leaves. 

Sirius blinks, then turns to Remus. “Did you actually get Walburga Black to like you?”

Remus grins, and it’s blinding. “How horrified do you think she'd be if she found out about my lunar predicament?”

Sirius blinks again. “Did she just tell you to enjoy your night? Remus, did you hex my mother into becoming a pleasant individual?”

Remus laughs. “Sure.”

“Happy new year to you too, Re,” Sirius says. “Let’s go get drunk.”

Remus laughs again. “Sure. How’s your break been, Sirius?”

“Just great,” Sirius says. “Monday cannot come quickly enough.”

Remus nods. “Yeah. I’ve missed you.” 

Sirius smiles. He no longer knows why he was so nervous in the first place. He somehow forgot that this is Remus. “I’ve missed you, too, Re. Let me show you around.”

[milverton]

I watch Jake Broe's update videos on the war in Ukraine pretty religiously, so I wanted to share what he had to say in his latest video because I at least felt a little better about this whole new trumpocalypse fiasco after hearing some of the points he made.

Here's his tweet that summarises what he says in the video, but I would recommend still watching the whole thing! (I've bolded the main points)

Okay! We all needed a day to reflect on what happened and I have good news and bad news for Ukraine about Trump returning to the US Presidency.

Let's start with the bad news for Ukraine…

Trump could end all US military cooperation

Trump could lift all sanctions on Russia

Trump could return all frozen assets to Russia

Yes, that is all very bad, but there might be good news.

First, Trump is always transactional. It does not matter if Russia was helping Trump or not in the past, Trump does not feel like he owes anyone anything for past favors. If Trump ever gives something up, then he will want something in return at the same time.

Russia will make demands that Trump is happy to accommodate, but only if Russia agrees to something that makes Trump look good. If Russia refuses, then Trump will rapidly escalate against Russia out of spite. American weapons in Ukrainian hands have already killed hundreds of thousands of Russian soldiers. Putin might refuse any kind of transactional deal with Trump. Nobody knows what either Trump or Putin will do. Trump could inadvertently destabilize Russia without even meaning to.

Second, Trump does not take over until January 20th, which means we know for a fact that Russia is not going to use a nuclear weapon before Trump returns to office. Russia is not going to start a nuclear war if they think Trump will give them favorable terms. Meaning there is no risk of escalation management the next two months. Take the gloves off!

For the next two months Ukraine should be given permission to hit whatever they want with whatever is given to them anywhere on Russian territory. Additionally, Biden now is forced to rush deliver and allocate the rest of America's available funds allocated by Congress to Ukraine this winter.

If instead Harris was re-elected and MAGA controlled Congress, military aid would have ended anyways and Biden would have tried to stretch these funds out until next summer. Biden can't do that now. So Ukraine is actually going to get a huge boost in military aid right away.

Third, even though I do not think Trump cares at all about Ukraine, he does care about his own image and legacy. He is never running for office ever again, but he loves to be loved by his supporters. He does not want to look weak and if Ukraine refuses to a negotiated capitulation and instead fights on without US help, these are going to be top headlines daily (maybe the fall of Kharkiv or the fall of Odesa) and this will make Trump look weak. He hates that. These would be images that would look worse for America than the US withdrawal of Afghanistan.

Forth, Trump hates Iran. Trump fiercely supports Israel and Iran is currently trying to destroy Israel. If Trump takes any military action against Iran (or looks the other way when Israel does) this could weaken or cripple one of Russia's most important allies. Harris was never going to do anything about Iran. Trump might actually cripple Iran and their Russian allied proxies in the Middle East.

Fifth, Trump loves the idea of cheap oil. He might actually find ways (cutting regulations, building more pipes, granting access to more public lands) that brings the global price of oil down so much that this ends up bankrupting Russia faster. That is not Trump's goal, but he might accidentally do it.

Sixth, Europe might finally militarily wake up once Trump stops answering their phone calls. Europe has the population and the economic power to support Ukraine and defeat the Russians without America's help. This is Europe's moment. They can't use America as an excuse anymore for holding them back.

Lastly… this is crazy, but Trump's economic plan of tariffs and trade wars might actually trigger a massive recession in the United States. When the US goes into recession, this almost always triggers a global recession. We realistically need an economic collapse of Russia to defeat them and Trump might accidentally cause this without even wanting to.

It is all weird to think about. But we just do not know what will happen or what the state of the war will be three months from now. It is a complete mystery to everyone, including the Russians.

Keep supporting Ukraine. Russia will be defeated.

[shreyasmixtape]

will i still be the same when winter comes around?

the truth is-i've never understood why apples are never green in math problems. never understood why butterflies are worshipped and moths are killed, why english teachers love boys who smell like musk and recklessness, why people only write poetry about the kind of love that never stays.

i had this thought once in january.

that maybe-if i drank enough orange juice, if the glass was empty enough, if i hurled that goddamned thing against the wall hard enough, it would shatter into something softer than me.

and maybe, just maybe, i could pick up a single shard, press it into my mother's tear duct, and tell her to blink. once. twice. thrice. so she could feel what it's like to swallow glass.

she let mould grow in the corner of kitchen sinks, she never wiped it clean. she never wiped me clean.

and if she did that is all she did.

they found faith in scripture, in train tickets, in the way i shrank into the walls.

they let me rot in the name of devotion.

i don't know if it was the three-hour sermons, or the decades of sunsets that burned my skin raw, but i have softened into something shapeless.

something that drips through their fingers like i was never meant to be held.

father said-no, he spat-that i am a sick thing.

not a sick person.

and i never argued, because people are beautiful like spring.

they bloom, and they wither, and they come back again.

but i don't.

i stay dead.

but i love people. i think

i love strangers on trains, their tired eyes and cheap cologne.

i love the way someone tucks their hair behind their ear before they speak.

i love the ones who love like it's the last thing they'll ever do.

i tell mother to close my door on her way out.

i tell her seven times.

eight.

but it never sticks.

i tell her to shut the door

so i can curl into myself and bleed quiet.

so i can press my forehead against the window

and beg the rain to take me with it.

because, the sun always comes back, but i am so tired of watching it rise.

i hate people.

i hate that they are beautiful and still do ugly things anyway.

i hate that the sun keeps setting.

i hate that it is beautiful anyway.

i hope no ever sees the world like that.

[skelleste]

2024 Art Summary

A selection of art from the past year. You can find a little about each image below.

Happy New Year (Again!)

Just like last time, it's time for another self-indulgent end-of-year post. A lot of things happened and unfortunately I don't feel that I made as much art as I did last year. I got bombarded with people asking me for art trades when I opened them last winter and I still haven't done most of them. I'm used to only a few randos that I mostly turn down requesting them, but having a bunch of friends ask all at once was a bit unexpected. If you're still waiting, I haven't forgotten and will make it eventually. Unfortunately I have the "I shouldn't draw for myself until I do my owed art" mentality most of the time and it just results in doing absolutely nothing because, quite frankly, I often don't want to draw other characters more than I want to draw my own. I'm going to have to be extremely selective about art trades going forward. I also moved this year for the first time ever, and that threw a big wrench in the works. The reason I moved so soon was because my insane sister was moving back in. She threatened to poop in my brother's bed (she's 22) and threatened both of us with violence and my parents were like "yeah that's fine". So uh, yeah, goodbye to living that sweet, sweet, chimpanzee lifestyle. All of that aside, I still made plenty of things, and I'll talk about a few of them here.

January

Some of the last comic panels I worked on before the art trade fiasco put working on the comic to a halt for almost a whole year. These are sketches, but the whole page is done now, of course. This was probably the most time-consuming panel so far, as I had to draw an indoor scene with 9 characters (technically 10 if you count Scott twice). I'm not sure if any of the panels that I have yet to work on will surpass this one in amount of time needed. There's a reason I made this one of the first scenes on the laundry list.

February

The first art trade. I had the pleasure of drawing Mumbo, Jumbo, Balder, and Dash for Chalkrub. I don't feel too great about the background, with its wonky perspective and odd colors, but everyone seems to like how it turned out anyway. It's my third most popular piece of art on this whole site as of writing this.

March

I made this for no reason other than I wanted to draw something edgy for edgy's sake. It had been a while since I made any art of this nature, and Ferdinand is my go to OC for it. My taste in art is not the same as what I draw. I make what I do because it's more about the enjoyment of the process than the aesthetic appeal of the final piece. When I focus on personal aesthetic appeal, I end up not drawing for 9 months at a time because I hate injuring my hand on inking all the time. So if you're some edgy artist and ever wondered why the fuck a cartoon shitposter extraordinaire follows you, there you go.

April

Another art trade, this time for 888goober888 on DeviantArt. A perfect example of a classic case of the eternal false promise "yeah I'll just finish this detail and then be done." And then there's 3,000 brushstrokes worth of individual grass blades. Tee hee.

May

This was a painting I started, and then put down because it was awful to work on, and then I picked it back up weeks later and finished it. The miseries I suffer for not trusting the process. It was a backburner project for a backburner project, which is the website. This painting is now the homepage background, ready to greet all visitors to my nonsense.

June

Commission for Porcumoose. I get the standard array of OC types in my commissions, because every client wants something different from the last. This time I felt very fortunate to draw something I personally like, and I this was my favorite commission from the whole year. This is my way of saying to the public at large "Please pay me to draw more spooky shit please please please".

July

Art Fight month again. I was planning on attempting longest chain with a friend, but he fell ill and we cancelled that plan. I decided to do a slow art year instead, which means fewer attacks with higher quality. My personal favorite from fighting for Team Stardust was this attack, Osireon (a fanmade eeveelution) for Sqveel. Thank you to everyone who attacked me! I always appreciate every single one. Next year is the big 10 year, and I plan on making it special.

August

August always begins with a week-long break from art for me, simply to rest after Art Fight. I also had a week-long vacation shortly thereafter, so half of my month was already spoken for. I had also started the process of moving and lost even more time to that. I can't recall exactly what all I made during then because it was very little, but one of them was certainly catgirl Maudlin. Here she is in all her glory.

September

This is when I moved, and I did not have access to the internet on my computer for a little while. I also spent much of my available drawing time working on a commission, so this was another month where I made very little for myself and cannot recall what little there was. Scatterbrain pineapple is going to teach you French while I jog my memory with blunt force and drywall.

October

Alright, now we're talking. On a whim I decided to participate in Goretober, because I couldn't stop thinking of stupid slapstick ideas and I thought someone scrolling through the tag and seeing this stupid shit randomly in the mix was funny. I was correct. I have one last prompt that I'll get to when I get to it, but aside from that one, this was my favorite drawing from the season. I think I've raised the bar on my own cursed content.

November

After Goretober, I took a break from regular drawing and leaned in favor of website progress. I made a handful of long-needed art assets, animated a custom cursor, created directories for future comic releases, and more. There is still much more to do, but a lot of the necessary code is sorted out.

December

Fuck those art trades (respectfully). I'll do them when I do them. I started working on the comic again for the first time since last February and I've already got a few more pages done. I don't really publicly talk about the comic very much, and yet I'll have random people take interest in the characters, the site, the prospect of a comic coming into existence, etc. and so I should really get on that. As much as the trades have been delayed, this is a project that was started much earlier and honestly could've been done by now if I didn't have to live for so long with people who are blasé about abusing each other. It needs to be completed.

These are just a small selection of my artworks throughout the past year. If you would like to see more, then you can peruse the blog. It's been my goal to get the comic done for the last two years, and we're going on year 3 now. Same old, same old. You'll see more art from me soon. I hope your new year is fruitful and full of peace. See you in 2025.

2023 || 2022

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: happy january! for @wyattjohnston ‘s 2025 winter fic exchange i got @tkwrites and this was my first exposure to sean durzi! i hope you enjoy the fic and the vibes are suitably cozy 🥰

word count: 5.5k

tw: friends to lovers, kissing, no smut

summary: lizzie arnold decides to surprise her best friend for christmas, but she could never have imagined how the holiday season would shake out

Elizabeth Arnold is having the travel day from hell.

A flight from Phoenix to Salt Lake City should only be an hour and forty five minutes. But when you add in mechanical failure, overbooking, and icy weather in the destination state, suddenly the quick trip turns into a logistical nightmare and she’s being rebooked on a flight that has a stopover in Los Angeles, adding nearly four hours to her travel itinerary.

Four hours on top of the three she’s already been wasting sitting in the Phoenix airport due to delays.

Honestly, it would’ve been faster to just drive to Salt Lake City at this point.

She pulls up Google Maps on her phone and taps in Sean’s address, just to see. Oh, more than ten hours of driving from the Phoenix airport. Actually, maybe she will just take the flight delays. At least it means she can just sit back and go where the airlines tell her, instead of having to focus on the roads.

She can’t even text Sean to tell him about all the airport bingo spaces she’s hitting - delayed flight, toddler throwing a tantrum in the middle of the terminal, fourteen freaking dollar bag of almonds, woman completely overdressed for the flight - since her trip to Utah is a surprise.

With her two week Christmas break, she’d made the executive decision to work remote for the couple of days before Christmas and fly out to Utah to surprise her best friend since he’s been in a mood for months as he rehabs a shoulder injury.

Lizzie figures that she might as well spend the holidays with Sean since her own family is scattered to the four corners of the US and she doesn’t feel like deciding which parent she’ll see. When she’d told her mom she wouldn’t be coming to Boston for Christmas, her mom’s immediate reaction had been to blame her dad for monopolizing her time. Not that explaining she wasn’t seeing her dad in Dallas for Christmas either had stopped her mom’s rant. Nearly ten years divorced and both her parents still hated each other.

Her dad had taken it slightly better, assuming she was going to spend the holidays with her sister Jane in Seattle. Nope - Jane was going to her fiancé’s family’s place in the Adirondacks. Lizzie hadn’t been invited. Which was fine. No, really it’s fine. Lizzie doesn’t want to spend the holidays with her bossy older sister anyway.

It might’ve been nice to be wanted though. Not that Lizzie will admit that.

Her younger sister, Cath, is somewhere in Los Angeles trying to make it as an actress. She’s not entirely successful since she hits up Lizzie for money every few months, but Lizzie did spot her in an episode of FBI: Most Wanted, as a bystander running from an exploded building, so she supposes that’s a start.

Needless to say, spending any sort of holiday time with her family is a non-starter.

And something about the life she’s living in Phoenix isn’t making her happy any more, so she’s more than happy to pack up and spend some time in Utah with Sean. He can’t really do anything physical that would set his shoulder rehab back, but maybe she can convince him to come along to the slopes anyway and sit in front of a fire while she skis.

Her flight is announced and she hefts her carry-on to her shoulder and treks down a few gates to stand in line and scan her boarding pass. It’s a packed flight and of course she’s wedged into a middle seat, fighting for elbow room. Closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths - she hates meditating and has never been good at it - Lizzie clamps her AirPod Maxes over her ears and tunes out everything around her until the plane lands at LAX.

Where she’s greeted by another flight delay because of bad weather in Salt Lake City.

Honestly, fuck Gary Bettman and Alex Meruelo. Life had been much easier when the Coyotes and Sean were in her neighborhood and not a nightmare travel day away.

When she finally lands in Utah, Lizzie nearly sprints off the plane and books it for the Enterprise kiosk so she can pick up her rental car. They upsell her on a Chevy Tahoe that’s probably way too big for her to drive, but has excellent capabilities for snow driving, per Andy at the desk, so Lizzie figures better safe than sorry. As a Maryland native, she’s no stranger to driving in snow, but it’s also been a good eight years since she had to do it regularly.

Last year, when she visited her mom and stepdad in Boston, Mitch had insisted on driving everywhere, even though Lizzie was twenty-five and more than capable of navigating her mother’s Hyundai through the streets.

When she emerges from the airport, the Tahoe’s keys jangling in her gloved hand, Lizzie gasps at the sudden hit of cold air. It’s crisp and clean and it hurts her face in the best possible way.

Phoenix is great, but there’s nothing like the cold weather to get her in the mood for Christmas.

She wrangles her two (overstuffed) suitcases and carry-on into the Tahoe and plugs Sean’s address into the built-in GPS. He lives just fifteen minutes from the airport, but since it’s still actively snowing, Lizzie is barely going thirty miles an hour and it takes her thirty minutes to get to his house.

“Oh thank god,” she mutters, spotting his car in the driveway. It occurred to her about ten minutes into the drive that he might not actually be home. It’s nearly nine thirty at night, so odds were good that he’d be home but wouldn’t that just have been the cherry on top of her day? Having to sit in Sean’s driveway in her rented car because he was out of the house.

As she pulls her car in behind his, Lizzie sees the curtain in the front window shift and a smile stretches across her face, excitement bubbling in her stomach. She hasn’t seen Sean since the Utah home opener in October - there was no way she was missing that piece of both NHL history and Sean Durzi personal history - and she’s missed him a lot.

Lizzie leaves the luggage behind and makes her way carefully through the snow covering the walkway to the front door. Sean already has it open and he’s backlit in the doorway, but Lizzie can see the confused expression on his face.

“Surprise!” She squeals, giving him excited jazz hands. “I’m imposing myself upon you and staying through the New Year.”

It takes a minute to click, Lizzie’s pronouncement, but when it does, Sean shakes his head and laughs, stepping back so she can come inside. “You’re so lucky I decided not to go out tonight,” he grins, opening his arms for a hug. Lizzie steps into his embrace, puffer coat and all, squeezing him around the middle. Sean’s chin comes down to rest on top of her head and something that was missing clicks into place.

“I legit just had that same thought as I drove up,” Lizzie laughs, shedding her coat, hat, and gloves. She kicks her boots off and lets them fall in a pile next to Sean’s sneakers at the front door. “But then I figured that you’re a giant loser so where else would you be except at home.”

She smirks at him and Sean pushes at her shoulder, deadpanning a laugh. “Ha,” he snarks. “Why are you getting unbundled? I’m not getting your shit from the car. I’m injured, in case you forgot.”

“Okay, bullshit,” Lizzie shoots back, even as she pulls her boots back on. “You’re in the actively rehabbing stage and are more than capable of lifting my suitcases.”

Sean hands Lizzie her hat. “Are they under forty-five pounds? Because I have limitations,” he says the last word like it’s a four-letter one, nose wrinkling up in disgust.

Lizzie’s mouth snaps shut on her response. Because no, her bags aren’t under forty-five pounds and in fact both of them have bright orange tags with the bold black HEAVY lettering. In her defense, winter clothes take up a lot more space than summer clothes. Boots, sweaters, jeans - all heavier than shorts and tank tops.

“That’s what I thought,” Sean laughs. To his credit, he shoves his feet into his sneakers and follows Lizzie out to the car, whistling when he sees the Tahoe. “Did you not have to tell the rental people how you nearly had your license revoked with all the points you racked up?”

He hoists Lizzie’s carry-on out of the trunk and over his good shoulder, leaving her to handle the two roller suitcases. She can’t blame him, not when he’s just following his rehab plan.

“They don’t ask about past infractions,” she informs him huffily, dragging her bags through the snow. “How aren’t you cold?”

Sean’s shoulder lifts in a shrug under his sweatshirt. “I’m used to it I guess? It’s not even that cold right now,” he stomps the snow off his sneakers before heading back inside and Lizzie does the same.

Once everything is inside and the door is shut behind them, Lizzie exhales roughly, finally feeling like she can relax. Her shoulders slump and she feels her spine curl as she slouches, one hip popped to the side. Her mother is somewhere in Boston, cringing because she can feel Lizzie’s terrible posture from a country away.

“Well, I’m not,” she shivers, the residual cold making its way through her body. Sean rolls his eyes at her and reaches out to roughly rub his hands up and down her arms, making her laugh more than it warms her up.

Through laughter, Lizzie manages to say, “that’s not working! I’m still freezing.”

“Yeah, but you’re laughing and not pouting about it,” Sean points out with a grin. He gives Lizzie’s arms one more up and down rub before letting his hands drop to his sides. “I hope you packed warm because it’s literally only going to get colder.”

“Whatever I forgot,” Lizzie smirks, “I’ll steal from your closet, Seanie.” She wanders off into the kitchen and makes herself comfortable, finding a glass and pouring herself some water. Sean trails after her and takes a seat at the kitchen island, propping his chin on his palm. He stares at her and she wrinkles her nose at him.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Lizzie swipes her hand over her cheeks, feeling nothing.

Sean shakes his head. “Nah, sorry. Just trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re here,” he shrugs, the corner of his mouth ticking up slightly. “It’ll be nice to have someone else ratting around the house with me.”

“I don’t rattle,” Lizzie leans her forearms on the counter, “I’m young and vibrant and not depressed, like someone else I know.”

“I’m not depressed,” Sean counters quickly. Too quickly. His mouth tries for a convincing smile, but ends up in a grimace. Lizzie winces.

“That’s not convincing at all,” she deadpans. “We’re gonna work on that while I’m here.”

Sean raises an eyebrow and Lizzie lets her face morph into a bright smile, forcing it bigger and more exaggerated until he cracks, laughing at her with a genuine smile on his face. “C’mon,” he slips off the stool and makes a ‘come here’ gesture with his hand, “let’s get you some dinner. I bet you haven’t eaten in a minute.”

Lizzie’s stomach rumbles before she can answer and Sean smirks at the embarrassed, sheepish look on her face. “Knew it!” He crows, pulling open the fridge and rummaging around. Lizzie keeps up a string of chatter, filling him in on the things he’s missed back in Phoenix, until Sean deposits a Scooby Doo sandwich in front of her, icy glass of water dripping with condensation.

“I can’t eat all of this,” Lizzie says, picking up the hulking sandwich as she protests. A tomato slips out and lands on the plate with a wet plop. Sean snags it and pops it in his mouth, chewing quietly.

“I’ll finish what you don’t eat,” he rolls his eyes at her. Lizzie should’ve known that since Sean’s been her leftovers garbage disposal since the day they met.

She manages half of the sandwich before a yawn cracks at her jaw and the adrenaline of her trip wears off. Lizzie tucks one leg up underneath her and watches Sean polish off the sandwich. She’s always been a little bit in awe of how he can eat at any time of day and keep going. Her late night dinner is sitting in her stomach and making her sleepy.

“Guest room’s clean,” Sean ushers her upstairs with one hand between her shoulder blades. “Get some sleep and we can discuss your itinerary tomorrow.”

“I don’t have an itinerary,” Lizzie protests half heartedly, stumbling over her feet so Sean has to catch her around the waist and steady her. His hand is warm through the thin fabric of her shirt and she shivers a little. His fingers flex on her waist.

“Bullshit,” Sean laughs, pushing open the guest bedroom door for her. “You definitely have an itinerary. And lucky you, once I’m done with PT for the day, I usually have no plans.”

Lizzie ignores the bitterness lacing his tone - she’ll have to cheer that right out of him. The injury had taken a toll on Sean’s attitude, knowing that he was missing the first season they’d ever play in Utah. Besides that, Sean’s never been one to sit still.

“I will neither confirm nor deny the existence of an itinerary,” Lizzie replies, faux-haughtily. “Besides, I’m visiting you so you really should be the one to entertain me.”

Sean leans against the doorframe, looking slouchy and comfortable. “Liz, I didn’t know you were coming. If you want plans, you gotta give me some notice,” he kicks a foot in her direction, lazy.

“Consider this your notice,” Lizzie kicks back, making brief contact with his socked foot. “I want to be entertained.”

“We’ll see,” Sean pushes her shoulder gently. “Get some rest, Liz. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Sleep comes quickly and morning comes even quicker. Lizzie tumbles out of Sean’s guest bed in a cloud of bed head and jaw cracking yawns to find him bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the kitchen counter. He’s fully dressed in jeans and a sweater and Lizzie’s heart does a funny little twist while she watches him make eggs at the stove.

He’s humming to himself and Lizzie doesn’t recognize the song, but she wraps her arms around her stomach and listens quietly, the warm feeling of home washing over her. It’s peaceful until Sean turns and spots her, yelping and dropping the egg covered spatula to the floor, clearly startled.

Lizzie shrieks in an automatic response and Sean nearly nails her in the head with the salt shaker he’s reflexively picked up from the counter and drawn back.

“It’s me!” Lizzie rushes to say, heart beating wildly. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

“Fuck, Liz,” Sean growls, setting the salt shaker back down with a loud clatter. “I think you just took five years off my life. Why were you sneaking around?”

He bends to pick up the spatula and toss it into the sink. Lizzie huffs a breath, “I wasn’t sneaking! I just…was quiet.”

Sean grabs a new spatula and shakes it in Lizzie’s direction, an amused scowl on his face. “You need a bell on your neck,” he teases. “Coffee’s ready to go, just hit the button.”

Lizzie makes an appreciative noise in the back of her throat and jabs at the start button on Sean’s fancy espresso machine, doing a little happy shimmy when the coffee starts brewing. “Did you already do PT today?” She asks, leaning on the counter and picking at the bowl of fruit Sean has out.

“Mhm,” Sean plates up eggs and bacon for both of them. “Bright and fucking early so I have plenty of time in my day to think about all the non-hockey things I get to do.”

“Well,” Lizzie waves her fork in the air, bits of egg falling to the counter, “I’m here to entertain and we all know how terrible of an ice skater I am, so non-hockey things are my specialty.”

Sean manages a faint smile and Lizzie nudges his thigh with her foot. “Seriously,” she continues, “I’m not going to stop until you’re in a better mood. And I’m stubborn as fuck.”

“Yeah, you really are,” he agrees easily. “But okay, we’ll do whatever you want to do. I won’t even complain, well, that much anyway.”

“It’s all I ask,” Lizzie replies with a beatific smile and a sarcastic flutter of her eyelashes.

After breakfast, Sean decides he wants to get in another workout and Lizzie takes the opportunity to get a few hours of work in. She’s knee deep in an Excel spreadsheet when Sean deposits another Scooby-Doo-esque sandwich in front of her, lettuce and tomato hanging out of the bread, cold cuts and cheese stacked cartoonishly high. A small pile of chips are on the plate next to it and he sets a fresh can of Cherry Coke down too. She tries not to think about the warmth that spreads in her chest when she remembers that Sean doesn’t drink Cherry Coke. She has an addiction though and for Sean to have the drink in his fridge means he stopped this morning to pick up a case.

“Thanks,” she beams up at him, chest feeling a little gooey. “My blood sugar was a little low.”

“I know,” Sean laughs, snagging a chip and crunching on it loudly. “I could hear you starting to mutter to yourself and you only do that when you’re getting hangry.”

Lizzie wrinkles her nose at him, but can’t dispute the fact. She shrugs and picks at the corner of the sandwich, pinching off a small bite. There’s chipotle mayo on the bread and she spots a pickle as it slides onto the plate. It’s a perfect sandwich, made exactly to her liking.

And Sean’s probably made her dozens of sandwiches over the course of their friendship, so she doesn’t know why this one is making her heart flutter.

“Eat up, Lizzie,” Sean takes a bite out of one half of the sandwich and finishes his sentence with his mouth full, “time to show you downtown Salt Lake.”

Two hours later, Lizzie’s bundled up against the lightly falling snow and taking two steps for Sean’s every one to keep up. He pauses at the end of the block and waits for her, grinning.

“What?” Lizzie huffs, brushing her staticky hair off of her face. She’s cold, but sweating slightly, and her nose feels frozen. Sean, of course, looks like he belongs in the cold weather with his perfectly flushed cheeks and the dusting of snow bright against the black of his puffer and beanie.

“Nothing,” he says, holding out a gloved hand for her to take. “You just really do not look like you’re enjoying this.”

Lizzie takes his hand and ignores the muffled spark that travels up her arm when his fingers close around hers. This is practical, it’s just so she doesn’t fall behind and get lost.

His fingers squeeze hers and Lizzie squeezes back.

“It’s been a while since I dealt with snow,” she admits. “Phoenix has made me soft.”

“Let’s get you a hot chocolate then,” Sean offers, tugging her gently back into the crowds. Lizzie gets her hot chocolate and they split a pretzel, Sean biting off a chunk straight from the piece in Lizzie’s hand. Salt crystals scatter and a few grains stick to the stubble on Sean’s cheek.

“Messy eater,” Lizzie teases, reaching up to brush the salt from his face. Sean briefly leans into her touch and Lizzie ignores the way his gaze locks on her face, studying her as her face falls into a more neutral expression. He doesn’t say anything, but he takes hold of her hand again as they explore the shops and other offerings of downtown.

The next few days fall into a similar pattern - Sean does his PT, Lizzie does a couple of hours of work, he feeds her and then they explore Utah. They see the Olympic Park and Lizzie hops in a bobsled, screaming her head off the entire ride and falling into Sean’s arms when she climbs out, legs wobbly and adrenaline spiking in her veins.

“Oh my god!” Her eyes are wide and her hands shake a little. “That’s actually insane. Like, I have no idea how athletes do that all the time.”

“We can mark Olympic bobsledding off the future career paths, huh?” Sean teases, tugging at the end of Lizzie’s ponytail.

“Definitely!” She bumps his hip with hers. “I think we can safely take all sports off the table.”

She trips up the stairs as if to punctuate her sentence.

Christmas Eve rolls around and they’ve been inside for two days because it started snowing and didn’t let up. Lizzie’s curled up on the couch with her crochet project on her lap and a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders that she doesn’t need because the fireplace is cracking, letting off plenty of heat. It smells like the gingerbread cookies she’d taken out of the oven half an hour ago and the pine candle she’d dug out of a hall closet.

It feels like home.

“If you spend any more time on the couch, you’re going to fuse with the cushions,” Sean teases from his end of the couch.

“You’ve been here just as long as I have,” Lizzie kicks a foot out to nudge his thigh. “Maybe we both just give up on life and become couch people.”

Sean tips his head back to rest on the arm and Lizzie watches the column of his neck move as he swallows. “I could get on board with that,” he says, shifting his shoulder in a circle.

“Shoulder bugging you?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Sean grumbles. “But the weather fucks with it, I think.”

Lizzie sets her crocheting to the side and pats the couch next to her. “Come here, I’ll give you a really mediocre massage that definitely won’t help,” she laughs and Sean shakes his head, but shifts around anyway and comes to sit closer to her, blanket tangled in his legs. His body radiates heat and Lizzie finds herself subconsciously leaning into him as she settles her hands on his shoulders. He’s broad and warm, muscles jumping under her touch.

They’re both quiet as she works, the noise of ESPN SportsCenter (Sean’s choice) fading into the background. Lizzie’s thumbs dig into the knotted muscles at the nape of Sean’s neck and she can feel his shoulders release some of their tension.

“Feels good,” Sean mumbles, dropping his chin to his chest and changing the angle for Lizzie’s fingers to dig into a different muscle.

She hums a non-response, focused on the faint stripe of paler skin where he’d gotten a haircut and the scent mix of his laundry detergent and soap. Lizzie’s fingers tingle a little and she scratches her nails against the back of his neck, a noiseless laugh slipping past her lips when he shivers.

“Can I ask,” she starts, quietly, “why your family isn’t spending Christmas break out here?”

Sean’s quiet and Lizzie worries that she stepped on a land mine for a minute, until he clears his throat and ruffles a hand through his hair. “I told them not to come,” he admits. “They would’ve wanted to go to a game, you know my mom, she would’ve been all worried about me. I just didn’t feel like dealing with the whole thing.”

“So the only plan before I got here was for you to be miserable alone in the house?” Lizzie asks rhetorically, thumbs still working at a knot in between his shoulder blades.

Sean shifts again and drops his head back against Lizzie’s shoulder, looking up at her with big, puppy dog eyes.

She can’t help herself, she melts.

“Old plan is irrelevant,” he says, smiling a little. “I’m glad you’re here and we’re having a good time, right?”

“Right,” Lizzie replies softly. Her heart pounds in her chest and she doesn’t think before she leans forward and kisses Sean’s temple, a quick graze of her lips more than anything. Her hand slides up from his shoulder and curls over his heart, fingers pressing lightly into his shirt. Sean freezes and Lizzie’s eyes widen when she realizes what she did.

“Liz…” Sean says her name slowly, planting one hand on the edge of the couch to push into a sitting position.

She shakes her head and pats his shoulder. “It’s the heat. Super hot in here, do you want a cookie? Or should we order dinner?”

“I…um…dinner sounds good,” Sean sounds bewildered and falls easily to the side of the couch when Lizzie nudges at his shoulder and practically rolls off the couch. She’s in the kitchen in a few quick strides, putting distance between them. Sean watches her go, eyebrows drawn together over his nose. “Lizzie…” he calls at her back.

“Chinese still good?” She asks, ignoring him. “I know we said it earlier, but if you changed your mind, I don’t mind switching up.” She starts cleaning the counters, transferring the gingerbread cookies from the baking tray to a plate.

Sean gets off the couch too, follows Lizzie into the kitchen and leans his forearms against the counter. “Chinese is still fine,” he says slowly. “But, can we… Lizzie, stop for a second.”

She pauses, crumpling up the tin foil in her hand, a gingerbread cookie hovering in mid-air.

They stare at each other wordlessly, the tension in the air growing thick.

“It was nothing,” Lizzie finally mutters, unconvincingly.

“Then why’d you run away?” Sean counters.

“Because I needed to order dinner,” Lizzie sets the cookie down on the plate with the others.

Sean shakes his head. “No you didn’t,” he squints at her, head cocked. “Can we just…”

“Nope,” Lizzie shakes her head. “It was nothing. I’m drunk.”

“You’re stone cold sober,” Sean snorts a laugh. “We both are. And I want to talk about it.”

“Well I don’t,” Lizzie snaps back. Sean shakes his head and steps closer to her, her heart jackrabbiting in her chest. “There’s nothing to talk about, Sean.”

“But what if there is?” He takes another step closer to her and Lizzie finds herself chewing at her lower lip, leaning closer to him. “I meant what I said before, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you and I don’t think I realized just how much until you showed up on my doorstep.”

The air crackles between them and Lizzie nods reflexively, words caught in the back of her throat because something’s changing and she’s powerless to stop it. She doesn’t think she wants to stop it, even if she could.

“Tell me to stop right now if I’m out of line. Tell me to stop, Liz, and I’ll stop. I’ll go right back to the couch and we’ll order dinner and we’ll never talk about it again,” Sean says, finally closing the gap between them and lifting a hesitant hand to cup Lizzie’s cheek.

She leans into his touch instinctively, her breath puffing a soft sigh against his palm. Lizzie stares up at him with searching eyes and Sean maintains eye contact, refusing to look away from her as he studies her face for a hint.

“Sean,” she murmurs his name softly, lifting up on her toes, “you’re not out of line, but…”

Lizzie can’t verbalize her fears, her worries that this will ruin their friendship. It’s so easy being with him and she doesn’t want to lose that.

“I know,” his mouth ticks up at the corner, his eyes softening, “it’s supposed to be scary as shit, right? But you’re my best friend and it’s not scary at all, because it’s you.”

Her breath catches in her throat and Sean leans in closer.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” He whispers, his breath a warm brush of pepperminty air on her cheek.

All Lizzie can do is nod and then Sean’s mouth is on hers, warm and soft and perfect. Her hands find their way to his shoulders, curling around the back of his neck, holding her upright as she kisses him back. He tilts her head with the hand on her face, his other hand finding her hip and pulling her close.

Lizzie’s been kissed before, felt the butterflies and the drumbeat of anxiety in her chest, felt the kick of adrenaline in her veins or the pit of dread when it becomes obvious that the guy is a bad kisser or there’s no chemistry.

Kissing Sean is like a warm blanket on a cold day, all of her thoughts and worries silenced because it feels so right. There’s no anxiety in her stomach, no sinking feeling of wrongness.

There’s just Sean’s mouth, curving into a grin against hers, his tongue tracing over her lower lip until she parts them slightly for him. There’s his hands on her body, fingers dipping under the hem of her sweater and brushing against her bare skin. There’s his thumb stroking an arc across her cheekbone.

Lizzie leans into the kiss, pressing her body against Sean’s and she lets out a little whimper that’s swallowed up by his mouth. Sean’s hand tightens on her waist and she hates to have to break the kiss, but she’s starting to get lightheaded from lack of oxygen.

She’s breathing hard, fingers still curled around Sean’s neck, when she says, completely breathlessly, “I want you to do that again.”

Sean laughs against her cheek, forehead resting on hers, and he nods. “I’ll kiss you as many times as you let me, Elizabeth Arnold,” he replies, kissing her again, softer this time.

Lizzie’s not sure how long they stand there, arms wrapped around each other, kissing and giggling, but Sean lifts her onto the counter at one point and she can’t stop smoothing her hands from his neck and down to his shoulders, her entire body fizzy and light. Sean’s hands are warm on her lower back and he keeps shaking his head in disbelief, muttering to himself how he can’t believe it’s finally happening.

“What are you saying?” she asks, scratching her nails against his scalp. She’s always been a touchy kind of person, but it feels different now that she’s allowed to touch Sean like this, she can’t keep her hands off of him.

Sean laughs, his smile wide and infectious, and he presses a kiss to her cheek. “I just…I’ve been trying to figure out how to, you know, bring this up. I was going to just plant one on you on New Year’s Eve.”

“That would’ve been a bold move,” Lizzie comments dryly.

“Yeah, well, it was a last ditch effort plan,” he rolls his eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it, about us, for a while. And you showing up out of the blue? Felt kind of like fate.”

“I’m really glad I decided to come then,” she leans in and kisses him again. “Maybe I’ll have to change my return flight.”

“Cancel it,” Sean says, eyes twinkling. “Work remote, stay here with me for a while.”

It’s not the worst idea Sean’s ever had and it sounds pretty appealing to Lizzie. More time with Sean is never a bad thing and now that they’ve added kissing? She’d be pretty stupid to go back to Phoenix on the second as planned.

“Okay, yeah,” Lizzie nods, answering with only a few seconds of thought. Despite her surprise trip to see Sean, she’s not a spontaneous person, so this feels crazy, but right. She needs a little spontaneity in her life. “I can probably swing remote work through January? If that’s okay? And then we’ll reassess?”

She can hear how her voice ticks up at the end, making each sentence a question, and she hates how unsure it makes her sound.

Sean cups her face in his hands and she melts at his touch. “It’s more than okay. What do you say about getting back on the couch and making out until dinner gets here?”

“Second best idea you’ve had all night,” Lizzie replies, shrieking a giggle when Sean lifts her into the air to carry her back to the couch.

“What was the first?” He asks, draping his body over hers and dragging the blanket over them so they’re in a warm, cozy pile. His leg slides between hers and Lizzie hooks her leg over his hip, her foot resting on the back of his thigh. Yesterday it would’ve been one of Lizzie’s wildest fantasies to be curled around Sean like this, but right now it feels like she’s been doing it forever.

With a cheeky smirk and already giggling, she replies, “deciding on Chinese for dinner.”

[flovoid]

YOUR ORIGIN!

yes it has been 10 years for me with sims 4 and here I am recreating my four favorite sims that have put an impact on me ngl- I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THE FIRST OF JANUARY TO UPLOAD THEM :D

it’s funny because for me I have THOUSANDS of screenshots and nice memories of them that I never upload in social media, but to yall its new faces n new personalities you ran into, pretty wild.

from here imma go ramble a little about their characters and who they are:

KIM : he is pretty straightforward guy cuz he is LITERALLY the first sim I made in sims 4, he is goofball, bro, and an outgoing guy, he dreamed to be a joke star and I believe he did! its was sooo old, all I remember is that I used to do all the goofy insane stuff with him, he might sometimes dress as a gentleman but he is just a silly guy, he used to have a blonde wife that i dont remember n two kids that i didnt really cared about lmao

LEVI : the only reason I made him is to try out more male cc that I downloaded (that was literally when i started to download good male cc) AND ALSO when the vampire pack released I believe… yep he is a vampire! but he dies to the sun because i kept spamming the weakness thingy thinking it is a strength- he used to live in san my with his little toddler sister; he is a musician and omg he did have a beautiful voice i could never get tired of him… into guitar mostly and wrote so much songs! with him I was literally just trying so much new stuff since we bought some DLCs, also the toddlers update dropped, vampire, city..etc.

DANTE : he is literally the most sim that had an impact on me, not just to me! also my siblings they all know him n never forgot him, he used to be a sim in a save where I did play with a rich family who live in the city, dante was a loner guy live in a small apartment with his big bro who was literally the most extrovert sim alive- he is an athlete guy and really healthy! dante did pumped into the blonde women from the rich family, they both kinda fell for eachother and became endgame! the women is a future president and she did! miss her :( and dante is just a househusband dreaming to have a simple live BUT what’s funny to me is that he never had a normal live literally all the crazy stuff happen to him lmao, anyway he is into jazz so much- lord I remember spamming the jazz station ALOT while playing with him, he have a puppy & a cat they were iconic, and he lived a long life really, had four kids, had so many grandkids, had so many winter fests, celebrated so many NYEs, to the fact his eldest son died before him crazy… but he was indeed an icon.

THEO : yall this boy… he was literally the first sim that i had who went thro a trauma like i didnt even plan it technically a daddy issues, theo used to have the perfect family; mom, dad, and a baby boy, but his dad became a famous actor, and the more fame he got the more he became a narcissist, he legit didnt care about his love live n only cared about himself; he became arrogant too and in that point is were theo’s parents got divorced and everything got complicated, after the drama he got a new brother an adopted one! theo were close with his bro, but theo grew up getting rebellious, was cutting lots of his hair because it reminded him of his dad, he looked so much like him, when he became a teen the boy dyed his hair all black not kidding he stayed like that forever but in my remake version i wanted to show his real hair hehe, he was into metal genre and yep his favorite color is black too, likes wearing chokers n piercings, he used to be friends with max villareal (love him so much n him n theo were so dang similar) and he was a HARD CORE GAMER yall not kidding he used to play alot in tournaments n always win to the fact he started to become famous like his dad he hated that, theo was mean af he was brutal honest yall dont joke with him, and even tho he was acting like an asshole sometimes but love was his weakness… he become surprisingly quiet. he was like the protector with his loved ones.

[sincerelylancelot]

6. things you said under the stars and in the grass - strollstappen

snippets from the if you could see 'em now verse

“Your dad’s gonna be pissed if he finds you up here.”

Lance just shrugs, the sound of Max’s familiar footfalls and slight foreign lisp giving him away before his face even pops into view.

“Mom says he needs to start walking more anyway, so if he can’t make it up here, it’s not my fault,” Lance replies nonchalantly, staring up at the sky but losing count of the stars. 

He’s lying back on the grassy hill overlooking the bustling chaos of the Cowtown Coliseum, the air buzzing with excitement as the Bull Riders World Finals approach their climax. Max stands there for a moment, arms crossed, before plonking himself down in the grass beside Lance. His hands instantly go to the laces of his shoes. 

They’re scuffed, stained, and falling apart; the kind of thing Lance knows Michael would hate. Remnants of a past life Max can’t let go of. 

“You always do this,” Max accuses, yanking at a loose thread on his shoe. “And then Michael has a go at me because Lawrence is pissed at you.”

Lance huffs, pushing himself up on his elbows to meet Max’s gaze. “Then don’t come up here, genius. Go play with Mick or something.”

“Mick’s a baby,” Max snaps, wrinkling his nose. “He cries about the bulls too much. Michael says he’s too soft. You know how he gets when someone says that.”

Mick didn’t like the idea of hurting the bulls. Lance remembers hearing their dads complain about Mick months ago, saying he didn’t have a stomach for the sport.

Lance had bitten his tongue back then, knowing his opinion wouldn’t matter. Max doesn’t bother hiding his own disgust, though—his face twisted with all the righteous indignation an eleven-year-old could muster.

It doesn’t last long. Max’s chest puffs out suddenly, pride lighting up his face. “Michael says I’d make a better bull rider anyway. They’re gonna get me lessons when I turn twelve.”

Lance’s frown deepens, an odd chill prickling down his spine like the winter winds back home in Montreal.

“Yeah, well, good for you,” he mutters, lying back down and staring at the sky again, his jaw tight.

Max continues to chatter, but Lance tunes it out into white noise. It feels like an assault, the press of Max’s ambitions sitting squarely on Lance’s chest and suffocating him.

That strange feeling lingers long after Max climbs back down the hill. It sticks with Lance for years, settling on him like frost on a January morning. Persisting through every whispered conversation about Max’s natural talent, every wide-eyed story of another milestone he’s crushed. 

He struggles to name it but it grows, twisting in his chest like a bull knot pulled too tight. 

It’s not until almost a decade later, when he’s staring into Max’s sharp blue eyes across the bullpen, that Lance finally recognises it for what it always was: resentment.

—

“I thought I’d find you up here.”

The lisp is still there, though the tone is deeper now. It holds a fondness that Lance thought he’d long lost. He turns his head slightly, enough to glance at Max standing a few feet away.

“Needed some space to think,” Lance mutters.

The hill hasn’t changed much over the years. It’s the same patch of grass overlooking the chaos of the coliseum below.

It’s not the first time he’s retreated here to sit in the dark, nurturing the ghost of Max by his side; speaking words that met nothing but the cool Texan night. Now, with Max beside him in the flesh, it feels both grounding and unsettling, like a ship finally docking after years adrift.

But loneliness has carved itself into him and Lance feels the edge of instinct itching for him to push Max away again. Urging him to keep the hillside and all its countless stars to himself, the same way Max had forced him to exist for over a decade.

He doesn’t give in to his wants. Instead, he pats the grass by his hip, his hand so much more encompassing in the space than when they were children.

Max hesitates for only a moment before sitting down, close enough that their shoulders almost brush. “What’s so important that you had to leave Liam to fend for himself with the other wives?” he asks, trying for mirth

It works, just enough to quirk up Lance’s smile for a moment before the storm clouds win out and coat his tongue.

“I’m… I’m thinking of telling Dad,” he admits.

Max doesn’t react immediately but Lance hears the sharp intake of breath. It’s tiny, barely audible, but then Max’s hand is there, covering Lance’s where it’s tearing grass out of the ground.

“He wants us over for the holidays this year,” Lance continues, voice quieter now. “Hanukkah falls on the same day as Christmas. And he, uh… He knows we’re friends again, at least he thinks he does. He invited Michael and Mick, too.”

Max shifts closer, his shoulder brushing against Lance’s arm, the warmth of him tangible. “Are you worried he won’t take it well?”

Lance hesitates, his gaze fixed on the stars above. “I don’t know. I mean… part of me thinks it will all be fine, but another part of me…” He trails off, his voice cracking. “What if it changes everything? What if—”

“Lance,” Max interrupts gently, his tone steady. “Whatever happens, I’m here. We’re here. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

Lance swallows hard, the words he wants to say getting caught somewhere between his thoughts and his throat. 

Down the hill, he hears a familiar voice calling, and both men turn to see Liam, red-faced, half-stumbling to make his way up the incline, his face lit with determination.

“Anyway, Liam can charm anyone, even ol’ Lawrence Stroll,” Max adds with a small smile.

[letmesleep8]

even if I die screaming // elliexreader

CHAPTER 3: Cassiopeia

AO3 | chapter 2 | chapter 4

content warnings/tags: cheating (not on/by ellie); mentions and use of drugs; subtle homophobia; slight discomfort.

notes: hello loves! i'm back with chapter three and it's a bit longer than usual, hope you like it. also, there is a minor OC mention in this one. nothing too much, it's actually such a quick role that i didn't want to waste a character in it, not going to happen often.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"With my back to the shoreline, I dreamt that he drowned"

 — Georgia, Phoebe Bridgers

January 22, 2039 Winter

Dear diary, 

I've been avoiding Ellie for the last couple weeks since Christmas. The last time I saw her was during New Year's Eve, tried to come talk to me but my mom was there and she had had a couple drinks. I realized it was better for me to not cause any type of scene.

After what she saw on Christmas mama said it'd be better for me if I got closer to Dina since we "have much more in common", of course what she really means is that I should not go anywhere near Ellie. She's also been really trying to set me up with one of Seth's boys, Mike. The older one, I think he's like 18 or 19. I really don't give a shit, I've only been seeing him so she would stop coming to my door late at night to pray for me while I'm asleep. 

Tonight there's gonna be a community get-together at Tipsy and I know for a fact Ellie is gonna be there. And so will Mike, I guess. God, he's so fucking annoying. I mean, he doesn't actually do anything bad, he's just boring and... shallow.

Anyways, I'm going right now 'cause Cat promised to give me bangs. I bet it's going to look awful and mama's gonna kill me. If it does happen I'll make sure Dina burns this journal. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The sun had just set, the sky was not too dark. I grabbed the cake I baked for the community party and filled up Stevie's water bowl before leaving out of the door. As I turned to lock the door behind me, I got scared by a voice.

"What are you doing? Were you leaving?" Mike said, making me jump and almost drop the cake. "I said I was going to pick you up, why were you going by yourself?" He smirked, realizing I got spooked. 

"I completely forgot, I'm so sorry", I smiled while trying to hide the fact that I wanted to throw the vanilla cake into his face, I absolutely hate getting spooked.  I could see his smirk getting wider, he probably realized how distressed I was. And I think he liked it.

"Where 'ma hug at?", Mike tilted his head. I could feel my face twitch as I walked down the steps to my front porch. I looked up and put one arm on his shoulder, hugging him. He was quick to put both his arms around my waist, making me furrow my brows. I'm usually really not a fan of physical touch and Mike was always really touchy. After about two  seconds, I pulled away and started walking. 

The walk to the bar was quick and sorta quiet. He asked to hold hands, saying my hands must feel cold. I said I'm fine and stuffed them in my pocket. The lights on the street were beautiful, taking away my attention from him completely. We then got to my mom, sitting beside Seth. He got up, with a smile. 

I smiled back, wide and polite, as always. "I baked a vanilla cake, I hope people like it", I uncovered the cake and handed it to Seth, who seemed impressed. "Well, at least I know ma' boy won't be starving anytime in the future", he said with a grin. I could feel my smile getting smaller by the minute. The boy laughed with his dad.

On the other side of the room I could see my friends, all sitting together on the same table. Ellie included. I think Jesse saw me staring because he waved at us, calling us over. I thought if I should wave back but before I could even come to a decision Mike was headed towards them, dragging me along. 

"Look who's here! I thought you got kidnapped by Santa or something." Dina laughed, elbowing me. 

"Nah, was just doing an internship as a reindeer, but I'm back in town", I scoffed. Ellie was quiet, sitting on the corner chair. "Hi", I waved to her, reluctant. 

"Hey", she replied, her voice low. With the slightest of smiles, she points at my fresh bangs and says: "I like the new cut, suits ya' good." 

I smile and I can see her cheeks get fairly flushed. I open my mouth to respond to the compliment, but get rudely interrupted by Mike: "no shit, you cut your hair?", he's surprised. 

"You didn't notice the whole walk here?" I knew Mike wasn't exactly the brightest but I never took him for being blind too. He shrugs his shoulders and opens his mouth, trying to find an excuse for his lack of attention. Luckily, Seth calls him over to the kitchen for help, sparring us both with this useless talk. "I'll see ya' ", he says as he walks to his dad. I sat with my friends.

"Not noticing a haircut is a man's worst flaw", Jesse jokes. I roll my eyes and reply: "I really don't give a fuck. Anyone got a beer? Any alcohol? Anything?"

Dina whistles and laughs. "For you?! I'm impressed, look who decided she likes beer now!" Dina always liked to mess with me, especially about the fact that I don't usually drink with them. 

"Well, I can't always babysit you all", I mock Dina. "Time to return the favor." Dina lifts her hands in the air, so does Jesse. I turn to look at Ellie.

The auburn haired girl sighed and got closer, whispering: "s'okay, I do have something on me but y'all can't tell anyone otherwise we'll all be in trouble!" She gets up and all three of us follow after her. 

We sneaked out to go Ellie's house, she unlocked her door. "It's a mess, I wasn't expecting to have guests. You wait outside." I leaned against the front door, Dina leaned against Jesse, whispering something in his ear that made him chuckle. Soon after, there she was with a 6 pack of beer. We all walked together, deciding to stop by a creek, as usual. 

Ellie sat on a rock and I sat by her side, she handed me a beer. Jesse and Dina got a beer each and went to sit further, guess they needed some privacy. I took a sip, trying my best not to make a face. I'm really not used to alcohol. I try to break the cold silence. 

"So..." I looked up to the sky. "Do you really just keep a 6 pack hidden in your room?"

She chuckled, not saying anything else. Maybe she is mad at me. I would be. But her being mad would mean that it actually meant something, I don't think it did for her. Did it? Do I? Do I mean something for Ellie? Well, maybe now she sees me as a heartless bitch. I take another sip of the beer, thinking about how Ellie completely despises me. 

"Are you sure you wanna drink it? I know you hate beer." I looked to the side to see Ellie looking at me, smiling sweetly. "I could give ya' something else, if you want, of course." She laughs. 

"What? Oh, sure" I try to brush it off, as she reaches for something inside her jacket. I watch as she takes a joint and a lighter off her pocket and try to play it cool, even though I've never smoked a cigarette before. She lights it up, gives it a puff and passes it to me. I try to mimic her and end up coughing really hard while she laughs at me. 

"You've never smoked weed?", she laughs. "I've never smoked anything!", I reply, still coughing like an old man. "Aw shit, if I knew I wouldn't have done this, you should have told me!". She took it off my hand and smoked it again. 

Ellie blows out the smoke into the sky as I recover. "I can help you if you want", she says with a smirk. I raise an eyebrow, pretending to be innocent. I think I know what she's gonna do, I've seen guys do it in movies. I nod my head yes, "go ahead".

She puts the cigarette between her lips and takes another drag, but holds the smoke this time. She gently cups my face with her hand and slowly gets closer, I open my lips, not sure if I'm just going on with the bit or actually trying to say something. Lightly brushing her lips against mine, she blows out the smoke in my mouth. I closed my eyes and took it, breathing it in, and for a moment I could feel her smile against my lips. She backs away. I can see her rosy cheeks, they match the state of her eyes. She takes another drag to herself, looking the other way. As she turns around I can see the freckles on the back of her shoulder. I look to the sky and back to her, until she notices.

"All good?" Ellie smiles, looking a bit embarrassed. I shake my head.

"Toss your hair to the side", I say. She does so without asking a single question. "Now turn back around."

I take my index finger to meet her back, making her skin shiver. Move it to one side then another, tracing patterns, connecting dots. Constellations. 

"Cassiopeia." I moved my finger again. "Big Dipper." I moved it once more. "Cepheus". I whispered under my breath, by her neck.

Ellie chuckled. "Are you tracing stars on my back?" She got the weed back to her lips, dragging on it once more. Afterwards, Ellie looked into my eyes, close to her neck. She got close and brushed her freckled nose against mine, shamelessly touching lips and blew out the smoke into my mouth again. Our gazes intertwined and our faces closer than ever when I heard Dina approaching. We both backed away.

"Sorry for bothering you two. Mike's looking for ya'." Dina grinned, shaking her head and walking away. I quickly got up, adjusted my hair and walked away too, without looking back.

[ecargmura]

A Terrified Teacher At Ghoul School Episode 12 Review - The Lost Teacher

Just a head’s up, this is the last episode of the first half of the show. The show has two cours back-to-back, so the rest of the season will be aired in Winter 2025. There won’t be an episode next Tuesday, December 31 due to it being New Year’s Eve. The second half will resume January 7 with a new opening and ending!

Anyways, it can’t be a Yohaji episode without Haruaki getting into some kind of trouble wherever he goes. This time, he gets lost while Class 2-3 is on a field trip to Tokyo. This guy’s sense of direction needs to be studied alongside his voice actor’s lungs. Anyways, this episode is mainly Haruaki and Class 2-3 trying to find and reunite with each other as the kids split up in all directions while Haruaki himself gets help from an unlikely stranger.

This episode introduces Ebisu, but he never introduces his name to Haruaki. However, you can tell that this man is Sano’s brother as he appeared in the flashback in the previous episode. Nine years later, he still has disdain for youkai. He seems intrigued by Haruaki as he knows he’s a human teacher at Hyakki Academy and he also knows that Sano is attached to him (not that Sano will ever admit that). I wonder how he knows all about this; he’s probably stalking his brother or something… Also, Ebisu is not a youkai, which means that Sano isn’t one either—Sano not being a youkai was established back in the first episode where the Yakubyougami wasn’t in Haruaki’s encyclopedia and that he wasn’t affected by Yanagida’s perfume that he sprayed on Momoyama back in episode 8.

Anyways, it’s interesting to see the differences Ebisu and Haruaki have when it comes to youkai. Ebisu hates them but keeps it a secret, while Haruaki is afraid of them, but keeps persevering because he’s kind and wants to do his best as a teacher to guide his students, youkai or not. That’s why Haruaki went to save the little Zashiki-warashi trapped in the fire despite the fact that he doesn’t have to. He wants to do it because it’s both the right thing to do and that he cares a lot about youkai. The little girl could be a future student of his in the future, which means that Haruaki still imagines himself teaching at Hyakki Academy years from now, which is honestly massive character development for him. The way Haruaki is a misfortunate magnet, yet is managed to be saved by an amulet given to him by the God of Misfortune feels like some sort of Uno Reverse card of sorts.

It’s sweet that Class 2-3 didn’t rejoice over losing their teacher and doing whatever they want and took the time to look for him, even if meant costing them their trip. I know for a fact that not having a teacher around is a student’s biggest joy and that realistically, students would be happy to do whatever they want without teacher supervision, so it’s nice that these kids aren’t about that. They split into different groups and search different areas to look for their teacher. Youkai students function a bit differently when in human territory; they have their own set of rules implemented too like humanoid youkai need to hide their non-human features like how Nyuudou needs to wear a mask despite looking mostly human while the non-human looking youkai have to be disguised as objects or mascots like how Yanagida is disguised as a pennant and Daisy and Marilyn are mascots following Utagawa around. Though, the kids do get to explore Tokyo while searching for their teacher. Though, Hijita spends his day searching the sewers, which keeps the running gag of him getting the short end of the stick in situations at times.

Though, there is a little detail that there are youkai living in Tokyo as Akira and Yamazaki disguised as him are going to a cafe they visit every six months that have actual youkai in them. And the rules of youkai are a little odd when some are doing their magic out in the open without being concealed like how Yamazaki is showing off his wrappings while there are people around. I also find that there is an air patrol youkai to be hilarious.

My only gripe is that this episode actually removes a little detail that was in the manga regarding Fuji and another character, but it makes sense because that other character hasn’t been fully introduced into the story yet. In fact, they skipped that chapter, but given what I’m seeing in the second cour’s trailer, maybe he’ll finally get that spotlight.

If I had a nickel for every media that has Ryota Osaka and Ryohei Kimura in it together, I’d be a millionaire by now because it’s happened so often, whether they be characters that have interacted with each other or not. Like I mentioned in my review of the previous episode, Kimura and Osaka have been in several media together where they voice characters that have a lot of chemistry like Haikyuu with Bokuto and Akaashi, Tales of Zestiria as Sorey and Mikleo and now Yohaji with Ebisu and Haruaki. This makes a voice actor fan like me happy. Keep at it—keep casting these two together!

Also, the trailer for the second cour is on Youtube if you want to watch it! I’ve never heard of Sou before, but there are a lot of people excited for him singing the second opening. I honestly can’t wait to see what the second half of the show will bring in terms of what they’ll animate and how it’s presented. Let me know your thoughts on this episode!

[slothquisitor]

This is the worst week of the entire school year. The entirety of May has got nothing on the week before winter break.

On top of that, I have a teacher quitting so we have to scramble to hire someone, you know, before January. And I hate being in department leadership because it means that I like...know things before anyone else can know things? So there were rumors she was leaving and I just avoided everyone because I am so laughably bad at lying. I knew if people asked me about it directly I'd say something I absolutely couldn't. But then at the same time, no one tells me anything, so a job posts yesterday afternoon and one of my colleagues corners me like "WTF" and I am also feeling that same WTF...but I'm somehow the one in the leadership position for people much older than me...and anyway.

Anyway, work is a mess. And then I ran errands for two hours after school so now I'm a mess? But hey! Not a single one of my students have beat the shit of each other this week (yet *laughscries*).

[kiennilove]

🌸 WEEKLY TAG WEDNESDAY 🌸

thanks to @jrooc for tagging me! <3

name: miah baby

age: the one where you can’t believe you’ve made it this far

shower or bath: shower! it’s faster :P but i had a proper bath in september i think. i don’t fit in the bathtub :(

weirdest snack you've had recently: not that weird, but ice cream sandwich. loved it!

favorite food right now: i have a lunchbox, divided into three parts: turkey breast, pasta with tomato and garlic sauce and a salad :P my comfort food for already like 2 months or more, can’t eat anything else. is it possible to hyperfixate on food? i can eat one thing for 6 months and any other food would feel like shit lol

favorite song this week: tommy richman — million dollar baby

what're you reading right now?

not really reading, but i’m listening to the song of achilles

first association when you hear Shameless: promotional picture for season 9 :3

random gallavich thing you have: printed my own stickers i did two years ago and put them on my laptop :p low key want to redraw them

favorite band right now: beach bunny!

do you have any holiday parties coming up?

no :(

any you actually want to go to?

no, gladly :P i don’t like parties unless they are just sitting in a cafe with friends

do you like this time of year or hate it?

it’s meh for me. i spend all the time at home anyway, but i have my birthday in january, so yay, i guess xD

favorite thing this time of year: watching sun setting early, i love winter evening sky :( reminds me of some good times i wish i could go back to

and i’m tagging…

@spookygingerr @callivich @gallapiech @mybrainismelted @deedala

@blue-disco-lights @badassfetish @gardenerian @femboymilkovich @energievie

@stocious @thepupperino @burninface @heymrspatel @doshiart

[boykizzer0]

Image credit to tylersRadiohead on Pinterest

Okay so on ao3 I made a request post and a guest requested Kim x Neil so here it is

Young Neil hadn’t been to sex bob-omb's band practice for a while. Which was fairly odd for him particularly because he was their biggest fan and supporter. He was practically a member of the band at this point with how often he was at their concerts and practices. He was pretty much just someone who could replace Scott if he wanted to spend time with Ramona instead of practice with the band, which happens quite a bit.

No one had heard from Young Neil, so someone had to go check up on him Scott had suggested. "Wow Scott didn't know you cared about Neil that much." Kim deadpanned.

"I don't, but what if I wanted to go on a date with Ramona; You would have no one that could replicate my awesome base skills!" Scott had remarked.

"So, someone needs to check on Neil who wants to?" Stephen had asked, yet no one in the room said anything. "Alright we're going to draw straws!" Stephen declared not caring if friends had any objections. He reached for the straws, yet Kim spoke up with a sigh.

"I'll just go check on him, drawing straws is stupid." Kim had decided to bite the bullet instead of them all wasting time and drawing straws. If Scott pulled the shortest straw, then he would just demand that they redraw until he didn't; If Stephen had drawn the shortest straw, he would probably go but even then, why waste all that time when she could just go and get it over with. "So where does he live again?" Kim asked showing her annoyance at her decision albeit, she had made the choice to go check on him.

"Wow Kim is a fake friend, she doesn't even know where Young Neil lives!" Scott exclaimed mockingly.

"You don't know where he lives either Scott" Stephen Stills replied with a twinge of annoyance. "Anyways Kim," Stephen goes on to give Kim the address and directions to Young Neils apartment. Kim walked over to the door bundling up in her coat and scarf, she was able to handle to cold considering that she's from Canada but not wanting to expose herself to the mid-winter Toronto weather.

“Alright I’ll be back.” Kim had said wanting to get back as quickly as possible. Since Young Neil lived close enough to where they held practice, she was able to walk without having to witness the horrors that were on the public bus today. She can recall one time there was a man singing loudly and prancing around the already cramped space.

It was snowing quite a bit. Granted it was the middle January, and no one had shoveled the sidewalks yet causing Kim to have to trek through what felt like a mountain but was really just a small pile. As the snow poured down Kim made her way to Neil's apartment building and walked up the stairs to what Stephen had said was where Young Neil's apartment was located. "Okay so Stephen said he was in Apartment 409." Kim said to herself knocking on Young Neil's apartment door only to be met with silence. She knocked once again, this time more aggressively she heard a quiet mumble as the door unlocked and opened slightly.

"Kim?" He had asked he sounded very congested. As Kim strained her head to see inside, she could see tissues scattered on the floor and multiple cups of water on different tables.

"Hey, are you sick?" Kim asked already knowing the answer but figured it would still be polite to ask.

"Yeah, doctor said I have the flu" Kim cringed at that she hated being sick and the flu was something she was not in the mood to get sick with. Nonetheless she asked if she could come in and stepped into Young Neil's apartment.

"Sorry you're sick, and sorry if I woke you up if you were sleeping or something. We were at practice, and no one had heard from you, so I came to check on you. Do you have a medicine that the doctor prescribed?" Kim asked knowing that if he did, he probably wasn't keeping up with taking it.

"Well, I do but I've kind of been forgetting to take it." He shyly remarked, hiding the flush on his face. Kim sighed walking over to Young Neil's kitchen and looking in the cabinets grabbing a can of soup out of them.

"Sit down and take your medicine, I'll make you some soup. But you need to keep taking it or you won't get better." Kim faked an annoyed tone of voice as she poured the can of soup in a pan, heating it up over the stove. The smell wafted in the air making Young Neil get up after he took his medication and look over Kim's shoulder at the soup in the pan that was heating up, his mouth watered. Kim then took the soup off the stove and poured some into a bowl for him. "Here, be careful it's hot." Young Neil nodded sitting down at his kitchen island. He quickly ate the soup not paying mind to the fact that it burned his mouth as he shoveled it down his throat.

Kim put the rest in a tubber ware container and put it in the fridge so Young Neil could have the rest later. Saying her goodbyes and leaving as she wanted to be home before the snow picked up. Neil nodded and said goodbye to her, thanking her for coming over to check up on him. Young Neil couldn't deny the growing redness on his cheeks. He couldn't believe that Kim thought he was important enough to check on. Granted she didn't seem like she really wanted to, but she still did! He sits down on his couch, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he stares at the table trying to decipher what he is feeling. He decides to text Kim.

To Kim:

Hey, thanks for checking up on me I really appreciate it lolol. :3

To Young Neil:

Yeah, no problem just next time tell everyone you're sick instead of just going radio silent.

Neil found himself moving his feet on the ground and he wanted to just keep talking to Kim. But that wouldn't work out. Kim was busy probably she probably had better things to do instead of just hanging out with him. So, he plays some Tetris on his phone hoping that the feeling of euphoria he had moments ago would last forever.

[knightsofeclipse]

(Facebook ate this twice as I resized my window, I'm gonna cry)

Light spoilers for the ball, I reference the events but really don't get into them.

A little background, I have been obsessed with what we can ascertain from "non-canon" events. The character lore and insights that might be hiding there. (So we're all on the same page, I'm using "non-canon" here to refer to events and episodes that do not share continuity with the rest of the series. The Freaky Friday episodes share their own continuity).

The events of the ball put the last piece of the puzzle (or so I thought, we'll come back to that) together for me about the first "non-canon" episode. That would be "In an alternate universe" which was uploaded to Facebook on January 4th of this year (2024).

Just to be clear, I am not making assertions on whether this was planned and intentional or not. I just think it's really interesting that a lot of this, I was only able to pick up on in hindsight.

In the episode, we follow Charlotte in the staff room with Sorscha. They're talking about annual leave and Charlotte falls sleep. When she wakes up, she's in an alternate universe where everyone is out of character.

Or that's how it seems at first glance.

Sorscha is dismissive, telling Charlotte to "tell someone who cares". Autumn is overly complimentary and approval seeking. Marjorie is hungover and moody, shouting about hating kids. And Carly is a bully.

Initially, I had read this episode as what it appears to be; a flip of everyone's personality. Just for fun with no real impact on anything.

Now, in hindsight, what it looks like (to me anyway) is Charlotte realizing these things about her friends that don't necessarily line up with how she views them and her looking, mentally, for a way to rationalize what she's being forced to acknowledge:

Autumn is lonely. She's desperate for approval from the people around her. She's just distanced herself from her father as she starts a relationship with Winter, essentially losing the approval of the last person she had felt close to while still being new to feeling close to someone outside her family. She's intense about it. I'd even go so far as to say, in this alternate universe, she becomes a parody of herself as she tries to gain Charlotte's approval.

Marjorie is short tempered. She makes bad choices. She's human. But she also tends to make those bad choices, and the resulting consequences, everyone else's problem. Listen well because you won't hear this from me again: Janice was right to call Marjorie out on this. Marjorie is not a very self-aware person and before Janice laid it out for her, she probably had no idea this was something she does.

And Carly. Carly is selfish. The events of the ball showed us her true colours and that she's only ever been out for herself. She makes her choices based on what will be the most entertaining for her with little regard for anyone else involved. And she rarely gets called out for this because most of the time she isn't hurting anyone with it.

Now, if we can go back to my "or so I thought" from before. Sorscha. I had forgotten her involvement in this episode. And going back to rewatch, she kinda threw this whole thing off. She is who I've been simmering on since the ball. We don't see a whole lot of her other self. But she's there. And we're reminded she's there at the beginning and end of the episode. And when Charlotte wakes from the dream, she's concerned that Sorscha "doesn't care".

Now, if I weren't so invested in this, I would probably count this as disproving everything I've just said. But then I remembered something Winter said recently (What in GODS name does that mean.. uploaded on September 2nd 2024). Sorscha was envious at how Charlotte has been talking more about her relationship with Mia, who she only started dating this year, than Sorscha has been able to talk about Clodagh, who she's been married to for ages. This connection turns what Sorscha said when Charlotte woke in the alternate universe, "tell someone who cares", around into Sorscha's own insecurities that no one wants to hear what she has to say if they also have something to say on it. She feels talked over. Which, like, same. Me too, queen.

Looking at everything we've learned about these characters from that point to the present, they were never out of character. It was an exaggeration of their worst traits. Really, their core characters. The flaws that plague them.

And if that was intentional, fantastic. Amazing. 10/10. I'm speechless. I love a long-haul payoff. And if it wasn't, that's so cool that things turned out that way!

I understand I am probably way overthinking this. Not everything needs to be this deep. But, just because it doesn't have to be, doesn't mean it's not incredibly cool that it turned out to be anyway.

I probably won't do an analysis like this for the Freaky Friday episodes. This episode just always felt kinda out of place and like it was trying to be something, I just could never figure out what that something was. Now that I feel like I've connected the dots, I'm satisfied.